Chasing Cars
by Skiefyer
Summary: When seventeen year old Harry Potter comes across supposedly dead Cedric Diggory in the quiet town of Forks he's convinced he's finally gone insane. Especially when Cedric doesn't even remember who he is. Harry Potter/Twilight x over
1. Prologue

A/N: In the interest of me not rewriting the Voldemort/Harry interaction just know that ghost Cedric did not come out of Voldemort's wand and Harry did not take Cedric's body back.

_Harry lowered his wand slightly, and glanced sideways at Cedric. Cedric shot him a quizzical look. They both turned back to watch the approaching figure. _

_It stopped beside a towering marble headstone, only six feet from them. For a second, Harry and Cedric and the short figure simply looked at each other. _

_And then, without warning, Harry's scar exploded with pain. It was agony such as he had never felt in all his life; his wand slipped from his fingers as he put his hands over his face; his knees buckled; he was on the ground and he could see nothing at all, his head was about to split open. _

_From far away, above his head, he heard a high, cold voice say 'kill the spare.'_

_A swishing noise and a voice, which screeched the words to the night 'Avada Kedavra!'_

_A blast of green light blazed through Harry's eyelids, and he heard something heavy fall to the ground beside him; the pain in his scar reached such a pitch that he retched, and then it diminished; terrified of what he was about to see, he opened his stinging eyes._

_Cedric was lying spread-eagled on the ground beside him. He was dead. _

_For a second that contained an eternity, Harry stared into Cedric's face, at his open grey eyes, blank and expressionless as the windows of a deserted house, at his half-open mouth, which looked slightly surprised._

……………………………………………………………………………………………………_..._

Tyrrhenoi twitched slightly as he tore his gaze from the prone form of the human boy back to his 'master' Lord Voldemort; who was currently in the midst of his triumphant gloating. His eyes - so black they could almost be empty space but for the bright red rim– flickered again towards the boy. _He's alive; _he thought gleefully, _I can still hear his heartbeat however faint. _Annoyance briefly flickered across his face, too quickly for any of the humans around him to even begin to register its appearance. _He won't be for long. And this so called 'dark lord' won't stop prattling long enough for me to slip away._

Almost as if he'd heard Tyrrhenoi's thoughts Voldemort turned and fixed him with his blood red eyes.

"Feeling anxious are we?" He hissed, "Can't wait to sink those fangs into little Harry here? Well, you'll have to wait until I'm done with him, although, I can't promise he'll still be alive." With that Voldemort turned back to Harry and continued his gloating.

_Idiot, _Tyrrhenoi shook his head, _that's not the one I'm interested in. _He tensed as Voldemort finished his spiel and prepared for the moment he'd been waiting for.

'Now, untie him, Wormtail, and give him back his wand.'

As Wormtail hurried to carry out Voldemort's orders Tyrrhenoi chuckled softly _at last, he will be mine._

As Harry was untied and the first shouts of 'Expelliarmus' and 'Avada Kedavra' cut through the air, Tyrrhenoi slipped away faster than the eye could blink and headed towards the area where Harry had left the Triwizard cup…and Cedric's body.

He came to an abrupt halt as he reached Cedric's body and dropped to his knees behind it. _At last _he breathed and, grasping Cedric's neck in his clawed hands he lifted it towards his face. He bared his teeth and lowered his head until they gently touched the skin. He leant forward imperceptibly and almost moaned as the skin broke and the first few drops of blood welled out. Unable to think rationally any longer he attacked Cedric's neck with the single-minded ferocity of a wild beast. A sudden noise, and his head snapped up – lips stained crimson – to see the other boy dart past and hurl himself at the Triwizard cup. The moment his hands touched the cup he was gone and Tyrrhenoi wondered briefly what this meant before freezing as a furious shriek assailed his ears.

"You stupid vampire! You let him get away."

Tyrrhenoi met Voldemort's gaze unflinchingly as the Dark Lord stared him down, eyes flickering madly.

"You'll pay for that. Avada Kedavra!"

Tyrrhenoi just laughed as a jet of green light burst from Voldemort's wand and slammed into his chest.

"Mortal fool." He taunted, "I cannot die, not even by _the great Lord Voldemort's _hand." His sarcastic tone and flippant treatment of the Avada Kedavra curse coupled with the obvious fact that he hadn't died set the already physiologically unstable Voldemort over the edge and, with an almost animalistic roar he commanded his death eaters to 'deal' with the immortal.

…………………………………………………………………………………………...

Cedric Diggory awoke to _pain._ He screamed in pure agony as his veins burned with an intense fire. He screamed for anything to just _end _the pain, whether it be unconsciousness or even death. But no relief came. The torture continued. He rolled over, arms wrapped around his torso, face contorted with the never-ending fire that burned within his body. Suddenly a face entered his field of vision; it was so shockingly pale and angelic that his screaming ceased for a moment.

"Who…what..?" He gasped before succumbing once again to the tiny relief that screaming brings to ones pain.

"He's pretty incoherent."

Cedric felt as if the voice was an eon away so rapt up was he in the pain he felt.

"Weakling." Someone sniffed.

"Oh come now, Rosie." Another voice said, "He's in a lot of pain."

"We all went through the exact same thing." The voice replied snobbily.

"While _you _may not remember Rosalie," another voice cut in, "I seem to remember and awful lot of screaming when you were changed."

"Oh shut it Edward."

"Wow, he does look an awful lot like you Edward, doesn't he?"

"…Yeah, it's actually a bit creepy how much you two look alike."

"Maybe he's your long lost twin!"

"He'd have to be lost for a pretty long time…oh an odd eighty years or so."

"It's just a theory Edward, no need to be snide."

"Enough squabbling, let's get him back to the house."

"Can we stop the screaming first?"

"How exactly? Nothing stops the pain of our venom."

"I don't know. Knock him out or something. If he's gonna feel the pain either way lets at least salvage our ear drums."

"Oh all right – Emmett?"

Cedric's screams stopped as he spiralled into darkness and he briefly allowed himself to think that the pain might stop. But it never did. His screams continued only they never made it past his lips.

…………………………………………………………………………………………...

Cedric awoke to…nothing. Where was the pain? He laid there, eyes closed, muscles tense and waited for it to return. Minutes passed, but nothing happened. Sighing in relief he relaxed and began to assess his body for injuries. Shocked, he realized that he had none. How could that be? There was so much pain. How could he possibly have come away unscathed? And yet he had. In fact, he felt better than he had in years, except for a burning thirst he felt in the back of his throat. Suddenly he remembered the graveyard, Lord Voldemort and,

"HARRY," he yelled and leapt up. At his cry every other occupant of the house was suddenly in the room. Cedric flinched and dove behind the bed he was standing on, quicker that he could have imagined possible. _What the hell? _Putting the question of his newfound speed to the back of his mind – he had more important things to think about – he quickly turned his attention to the seven (humans?) who had practically appeared from no-where. _Wizards_ he realized, _but whose side are they on?_

He turned his focus on the tall blonde one as it approached him and due to the stress of the moment didn't even wonder at his advanced eyesight.

"It's alright," the blonde was saying, "we're not going to hurt you."

_Yeah right_ Cedric thought and began looking for an escape route. _Damn, they have the door covered and there are no windows. _

As the blonde edged closer Cedric stopped scanning the room and fixed his gaze firmly on its face. It stopped and he tensed, ready to run if it made any sudden movements.

"Jasper?" The blonde called behind him.

"He's nervous, scared, and worried about something." Another voice replied, "It feels like he's worried about someone else though, not himself."

"Edward?"

"He's analysing the room for escape possibilities and getting ready to make a run for it. He's worried about some guy named 'Harry' and he keeps seeing a graveyard and a flash of green light."

"Okay. Jasper, try to calm him so I can approach him."

Cedric tensed in anticipation of what the slightly smaller but somehow more powerful looking blonde would do and relaxed suddenly as he felt a wave of calm surround and envelop him.

"He's responding," Jasper informed them, "he's calming down, you can probably talk to him now."

Cedric's eyes flickered to the other blonde as he took another step forward.

"Hey, it's alright, we won't hurt you. What's your name?"

"Cedric," he answered, surprised as his voice sounded unfamiliar to his ears.

"Alright Cedric, I'm Carlisle. Do you have any idea what's happened?"

"No." Cedric answered hoarsely, "Do you?"

Carlisle chuckled and the sound seemed to reverberate around the room. "I imagine I have more of an idea that you."

A/N: Well that's it for the prologue. I'm still tossing up on the pairings so let me know if you have a preference I guess.


	2. Chapter 1

Previously

"_Hey, it's alright, we won't hurt you. What's your name?"_

"_Cedric," he answered, surprised as his voice sounded unfamiliar to his ears._

"_Alright Cedric, I'm Carlisle. Do you have any idea what's happened?"_

"_No." Cedric answered hoarsely, "Do you?"_

_Carlisle chuckled and the sound seemed to reverberate around the room. "I imagine I have more of an idea than you." _

Alice surveyed the newcomer with a small amount of trepidation – something was slightly _wrong _here. Her gaze rested on his face and suddenly a chill ran down her spine,

"Carlisle," Alice whispered, "His eyes…they're red."

Her words had an immediate effect – six pairs of topaz-coloured eyes gazed piercingly into blood-red ones.

Esme gasped, "Why didn't we notice before?"

"Because this can't be right," Carlisle shook his head, "he was turning when we found him."

"Perhaps not," Edward mused, "he could have been in some other kind of pain when we found him."

Cedric grew nervous at the shift in tone and tensed slightly.

"What else causes that much though?" Rosalie questioned, glancing at Cedric.

"I don't know," Carlisle sighed, "But it's clear he's tasted human blood. Edward, can you see what he's thinking?"

"He's…he's deciding on which one of us he could take-down in an escape attempt."

All seven automatically moved closer to the door and formed a slight semicircle around it. Alice bit back a laugh at the expression on Cedric's face. He looked like a child cheated of a sweet.

"He doesn't know what to do now. He doesn't trust us and, well he's thirsty." He paused, "Carlisle, he's acting mentally like a first-year vampire in the midst of a blood-lust."

"How long was he active before we found him?"

"I…don't know." Edward said, "Escaping and feeding is all he's thinking about but, more so than any other vampire I've come across. It's almost as if; well, as if he has no memory of anything else."

"But when he woke up he yelled 'harry'," Rosalie pointed out through Esme's horrified gasp, "And you said you saw a graveyard and a flash of green light in his head."

"They're most likely the only memories he has before he turned," said Edward sadly.

"Can he be helped?" Alice asked hopefully, "can you restore his memory Carlisle?"

"I don't know," Carlisle responded cautiously, "I need to know how the memory loss came about and determine the extent of damage before I can make any judgements."

"Then what are we waiting for?" Emmett questioned, "Let's get him to the hospital for some tests." He took a step towards Cedric.

Cedric leapt backwards before realizing he was backing himself into a corner. However, before he could make another move Emmett had grabbed his legs and Edward had grabbed his arms. He struggled and nearly got free due to his first-year vampires enhanced strength but he was no match for all seven vampires and currently each one was latched on to a different section of his body.

"I don't think taking a blood-lusting vampire to a human-filled hospital is actually a good idea." Rosalie said snidely, "He's stronger than each of us respectively at the moment and that strength will only multiply upon the smell of human."

"I'm sure we can contain him." Emmett ginned, "he's only a little guy compared to me anyway."

"But we can't risk it," Rosalie stated firmly, "what if he escapes and blows our cover? We've still got a few good years here and I don't want to have to leave."

Everyone turned to Alice.

Alice sighed, "no matter how hard I try I can't see this ending well."

"Well then, we may just have to hope that he regains his memory naturally. Trauma-induced stress can cause temporary memory loss and at this moment is the most likely cause." Carlisle smiled sadly, "Alice?"

"Well, I can see him but how do I know if his memory's back? I don't read minds you know."

…………………………………………………………………………………………

Harry collapsed to his knees as the triwizard cup portkey returned him to the middle of the maze. His knee ached and his scar throbbed painfully as he felt himself fall into the dirt, glasses crushed onto his nose as he sobbed. Distantly, he could make out the faint noise of footsteps but paid no attention as rapt as he was in his grief.

"HARRY"

"Haaaaaaaaarry!"

"What in Merlin's name is going on?"

"Where's Cedric?"

"Harry!"

He moaned softly as he felt himself being shaken, Dumbledore's gnarled fingers grasping his shoulders so hard it began to hurt.

"Harry, what happened?"

"Let go" he mumbled and tried to rebury his nose in the dirt, sobbing uncontrollably.

"Harry, I need you to calm down and tell me what happened".

"Cup….stone….figure, Cedric! Oh Merlin, Cedric!" He collapsed again his body going limp in Dumbledore's arms as he faded from consciousness.

…………………………………………………………………………………………

"…what happened?"

"Yeah, just look… lying there"

"…three days"

"Dumbledore's desperate…"

"Cedric…no idea…"

"Oh look, his finger twitched!"

"Oh come on, honestly, his finger twitched?"

"I swear it did, I saw it!"

"Oh pull the other one why don't you."

"Aha! It did it again!"

"Uh huh, I'm sure it did."

"Hmmph, well just cause _you _didn't see it…"

"Only because _you_ imagined it."

"Oh my goodness, his foot moved!"

"I TOLD you so!"

"No Ronald, you said his finger twitched. Now perhaps you can't tell a finger from a foot – and it's not my place to judge – but that was most definitely a foot twitch. "

"Oh just shut the HELL up!" Harry suddenly roared, "I've been listening to your annoying voices _all morning. _Now go away and leave me in peace." With that he turned his back on them and commenced pretending they didn't exist.

"But…but Harry." Hermione said weakly, "you've only just woken up and we've been so worried."

Not a single muscle twitched.

"And…and I don't know what brought this anger on so suddenly but I really don't think you mean to direct it at us, right? I mean, whatever happened to you wasn't our fault so please; please don't blame us for it."

Harry tensed before coldly replying, "you have no idea what happened to me so don't you dare speak of it. Now get out." He recommenced pretending they didn't exist.

"Come on Hermione" Ron said sadly, "can't argue when he's being a right prick."

Harry retained his coldness until he was sure they'd left before allowing himself to breakdown and cry.

_It had to be done. I had to drive them away. I have to drive them all away. This is what happens when I get too close to a person; they die and I am left with all the sorrow and the regret and the guilt. But I don't have to live like this. I won't. I can't take another death. I'm only 14 for goodness sake. I have to get away, away from Hogwarts, away from wizards, away from __**him. **__Forget magic and the boy-who-lived and prophecies. I don't need it. I never wanted it. And now I'm forsaking it. The school year ends soon, I can slip away then. But first, I have to tell Cedric's family. I hope they'll forgive me. _

A/N. Err, I'm sorry I've been so slack, really that's all I have to say for myself. If you're confused Cedric's bit is kind of in the future in comparison to Harry's part – they'll catch up eventually. Thanks for all the reviews, I really appreciated any constructive things you have to say, anything you want included in the story or anything like that.


	3. Chapter 2

A/N: Sorry this has taken forever…really that's all I can say. Also, on the red eyes thing – yes I am aware that newborn vampires typically have red eyes _however_ you will find that there is a perfectly good reason why Cedric does which I won't reveal now because it is one of my plot twist thingies. I have decided that I won't go through Cedric's life with the Cullen's before Harry arrives because I think it would work better as memories. So rest assured you _will _find out exactly what happens in this time period only not yet. We will begin with Harry.

* * *

It was raining. Hard. Actually, to say it was raining would be an understatement. Harry was fairly sure that even living in England, the proverbial birth-place of rain, he had never seen this much in one place at once. Staring rather morosely out the window of a small bus, he decided it suited him perfectly.

_I've always liked the rain. _

The bus lurched violently as it hit a pothole and his glasses fell off, cracking slightly as they hit the floor.

_Just my luck_ he sighed as he stooped down to pick them up. Never mind that he was a wizard and could fix them instantly, that wasn't the issue here. Instead, it was that breaking one's glasses was never a good omen. Checking briefly to make sure no one was looking in his direction he muttered a quick 'reparo' and watched as the spider cracks seemed to melt away.

_I wish I could do that_ he thought wistfully, turning his attention back to the rain.

_Simply melt away. Just like the witch from the Wizard of Oz. _He smiled briefly as he recalled his favourite story. It was the only book he had owned while living at Privet Drive. It had originally been a gift for Dudley from one aunt or another but Petunia had thrown it in the trash saying that it was 'magical nonsense'. He had rescued it and read it cover to cover dozens of times. How he had wished he could be transported into another world, like Dorothy, where everything was better. Where people who were different had friends and wishes were granted, where evil was vanquished. And then it had happened. One letter (ok maybe a few million, but essentially one) and his entire life had been turned upside down. He'd felt as if all his hopes and dreams were coming true. And they had, for awhile. But all good things, as Harry had learned far too often, came to an end. It had first begun, he supposed, when Petunia had discovered the book and tried to burn it. He had begged and pleaded with her but to no avail. At that time he hadn't realized it, but with hindsight he could see that it marked the beginning of his disillusionment with Wizard-kind.

The bus lurched to a halt and he was jolted out of his reverie as the person seated behind him dragged her bag from the shelf above, managing to whack him in the head as she did so. The woman swore and promptly dropped the bag as she hurried to his side.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry." She panicked as Harry groaned and tentatively rubbed his temple.

"S'ok" he muttered as he repositioned his glasses and focused his eyes upon her. As his gaze sharpened he had to fight the urge to drop his jaw in shock. She was quite possibly the strangest looking lady he'd ever met. Not that she was terrible-looking or ugly or anything. Actually in his opinion she was actually quite pretty with her oval face and her soft brown eyes. What struck him in the first place was not her hair, which while a nice shade of brown, frizzed out from her head like some kind of mane, but her clothing. She was wearing the most bizarre ensemble. Her hat, which he supposed was indeed a hat although he wasn't quite sure, seemed to have been the product of some serious fabric explosion. There were so many different patterns and styles it actually hurt to look at it. Not to mention the fact that it had more arms than an octopus. Her bright pink overcoat clashed horribly not only with the hat-thing but with the fluoro-green, pink polka-dotted dress she had on underneath.

"Really I'm terribly sorry, I'm just so God-damned clumsy and…are you sure you're alright?" she inquired as he winced in pain.

"Yeah," he grimaced slightly, "I've had worse."

"Well ok," the woman hesitated, "at least let me help you out of the bus."

He nodded and grabbed his knapsack off the seat beside him. The woman steadied him as he rose shakily (his balance was still offset) and proceeded to practically carry him off of the bus.

"Uh thanks…" he muttered shyly, rubbing the back of his head nervously.

The woman smiled at him, "I'm Poppy by the way, Poppy Eastings". She reached out a hand for him to shake and looked at him expectantly.

"Oh, I'm Harry P- umm, Parson." He shook her hand.

"Oh you poor dear," she said worriedly, "you had trouble remembering your last name…you may have a concussion."

"Oh no," he demurred, "I'm just…"

"Where are you staying?" she demanded.

"Oh you know, ummm," he waved his hand ambiguously, "I was just going to check into a hotel."

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously, "how old are you?"

"Uh, eighteen?" he tried.

"Nice try," she scoffed, "but you don't look more than fourteen. How old are you _really_?"

"Sixteen," he sighed and resigned himself to the inevitable. She didn't disappoint.

"Well that's settled then, you're coming home with me."

"But…" he began only to be silenced by a raised finger.

"Uh uh," she shook her finger, "now I won't ask you why you're on your own, but you _will _come home with me tonight at least – you're a minor and you could have a concussion. Besides, no hotel would let you check in since you look fourteen."

Harry bit his lip. He couldn't very well tell her that he'd actually been planning to camp under a tree or something.

"Alright," he sighed, "but only for tonight and," he paused briefly, "thank you."

"Not at all," she waved it aside, acting as if she hadn't just, for all intents and purposes, forced him into staying with her, "it's the least I could do after practically concussing you with my bag. Now come on, I think I parked my car somewhere over here…"

He smiled briefly as he followed her. As pushy and strange as she was, he kind of liked her. She reminded him somewhat of what he supposed Hermione would grow up to become personality wise, if not clothing wise. The thought was comforting. He could pretend she was here, even though there were thousands of miles between them, not to mention several years.

_I wonder if they still miss me. _He supposed they had moved on with their lives. It had been two years after all. Two long years, in which he had not written a single letter for fear of it being intercepted, and Dumbledore, or worse, Voldemort, figuring out where he was.

_Still _he thought, frustrated, _somehow one of them manages to find me wherever I go. _He was forever running from place to place, never staying more than a few months in any one town or city. But he was sick of running. He just wanted to live a normal life amongst normal people, a life where he wasn't the great 'Harry Potter' the 'Chosen One'. But since when had any of his wishes come true? When he had first come across Forks on a tourist's map he'd just known it was perfect. It was small, secluded, and it rained over eighty percent of the time. Who would look for him there? And in any case, with all that rain, maybe his one wish would be granted. Maybe he could simply melt away, cease to exist, as Harry Potter any way. He could forge a new identity, a new life amongst a town whose greatest asset was that there were no wizards or witches within a hundred miles of it.

"Now Harry dear," Poppy began as she pulled out of the parking lot, "I know I promised I wouldn't ask any personal questions but I simply can't help myself. Just the thought of a young man like you out on the streets alone…I just have to ask – and don't feel like you have to answer – but where are your parents?"

Harry opened his mouth and then hesitated briefly, unsure how much of the truth he should reveal. He guessed there were plenty of orphans in the world; it was probably safe to be somewhat honest about his parents and at least he wouldn't have to remember a cover story later.

"My parents," he said slowly, "were…murdered when I was just a baby.

"Oh my," Poppy gasped and whipped her head around so fast that Harry had to duck as her hat's 'arms' swung his way "you poor thing. Who took care of you?"

"My aunt," he said hesitantly, "but she recently…had…health issues. Yeah, and me and my cousin were too much for her so she was going to put me into the foster system but I didn't want to go so I left."

"Oh dear," she clucked her tongue in disapproval, "and how long ago did you run away?"

He supposed he may as well continue with the truth, as least if he told her how long she may realize that he had been doing ok on his own.

"Two years ago."

Poppy gasped, "two _years_!!!?? And your aunt didn't file a missing person's report or anything?"

"She may have," he hedged "but I'm good at hiding".

"I'll bet," she mused and drove the rest of the way in silence, every now and then stealing a look at Harry who appeared to be calmly observing the scenery. Inside however, his mind was in turmoil. _Oh bugger. What have I done? She's probably going to call the police on me, and then they'll come find me._ He took a deep breath. _Calm down Harry, you're a wizard for Merlin's sake. I'll just leave during the night or something; I won't let them get me._

"We're here," Poppy announced somewhat cheerfully.

Harry looked out the window to find a surprisingly normal house given Poppy's bizarre appearance. It was a small, quaint looking cottage and Harry found he liked it on sight. There was just something so serene and peaceful about it.

"You have a lovely house," he remarked quietly.

"Thank you," Poppy smiled, "my family built it. Of course, I had nothing to do with the decorating, I'm colour-blind you know."

Harry stifled a laugh. _Really, _he thought, _I could never have guessed._

A he stepped out of the car he clutched his knapsack to his chest.

"Come on," Poppy began to unlock the door, "I want you to meet Gerald."

As Harry followed her he questioned, "Is Gerald your husband?"

Poppy laughed, "oh goodness no, he's my cat, and even he's more than enough husband for me." Seeing Harry's confused face she explained, "I did have a husband once, but he's long gone now and since then I haven't needed anyone but Gerald here." She patted the gingery cat that had just leapt onto the kitchen counter and rubbed itself against her hand.

"I've just got to go check on something; I'll be back in a moment dear."

As Poppy left, Gerald made his way over to Harry. Warily, the cat sniffed him and then butted his nose against his leg. Harry bent down slightly to pet him and smiled as the cat began to purr loudly.

"I think he likes you," Poppy remarked as she re-entered the kitchen. Harry smiled at her, "he's very affectionate."

"Better than most people, cats are." Poppy picked Gerald up and hugged him to her chest. "They let you know exactly what's on their mind and they never lie to you. Now, I've set up the guest bedroom for you so grab your bag and follow me."

Obediently Harry picked his knapsack up and tailed her to the room.

"This is it," she said, "and if there's anything you need just let me know."

"Thank you," Harry said sincerely, "you really didn't need to do this for me."

"Nonsense," she said, "you did us a favour by coming here. We don't usually have company and it's nice once in awhile. Now I'm going to make dinner so you just get yourself settled in, okay?"

He nodded and settled himself on the bed with his knapsack on his lap. Gently he undid the ties and brought out a small framed photograph. Within in the frame three children laughed their arms around one another. _We were all so happy_ he thought wistfully, _and so naive. _


	4. Chapter 3

"Harry, dear?" Poppy called from the kitchen, "dinner's ready."

Harry gently placed the picture back in his knapsack and closed it up – it wouldn't do for Poppy to discover his wand by accident – before heading towards the dinner table. He stood rather awkwardly at the door until Poppy bustled in and shooed him towards a seat.

"Go on," she said as she placed a plate of chicken and vegetables on the table, "better eat up quickly or it's fair game to Gerald."

Harry watched as the aforementioned cat slunk into the room, eyeing the chicken, eerily reminiscent of a large cat stalking its prey.

"Thank you," Harry said earnestly, "for everything."

"You are most welcome young man," Poppy smiled softly; "it's our pleasure really. We do have so few visitors."

"Well thank you anyway," Harry reiterated, "You've no idea how long it's been since…" he trailed off and made a show of being engrossed with his food. _Damn, _he thought, _why did I go and say that? _

Poppy did her best to pretend she hadn't heard his last remark and instead asked him whether he thought the chicken was tender enough.

"It's perfect," Harry smiled, "really, it's even better than Mo…an old friend's mother's cooking, and her cooking was _good_."

Poppy blushed slightly, "it's just a little homemade recipe of mine, nothing special."

They continued to eat in silence until Poppy, unable to restrain her curiosity, asked "so what exactly are you doing in Forks anyhow?"

Harry deliberately put a very large piece of chicken in his mouth and chewed slowly. _Do I tell the truth? Why not? Where's the harm? _

"I was actually thinking of staying here for awhile." He studied her reaction carefully but she gave nothing away.

"I see," she chewed thoughtfully, "and you don't have any family here?"

"Uh, no."

"Friends?"

"Er, no."

"And you're sixteen."

"Well, yes," Harry began, "but I'm going to be seventeen soon."

"Oh really?" Poppy raised an eyebrow, "how soon?"

"Er," he checked his watch, "five hours."

"Oh," she looked surprised, "well regardless, you're still a minor, yes?"

"I, uh, well yes," he conceded.

"And so," she declared, "I think you should stay with me, that is with us."

At Harry's shocked look she hurried to clarify, "at least until I can find you somewhere else to go because honestly, no one's going to rent or sell anything to a seventeen year old."

Harry, being stunned, said nothing however his thoughts were tumultuous. _I'll have to accept, _he thought, _I can't tell her I'm a wizard and can therefore disguise my appearance to seem older…come to think of it, why haven't I affected a semi-permanent glamour? It would make life so much easier. Okay note to self: use glamour as soon as you leave Forks._

He realized that Poppy was still staring worriedly at him, waiting for an answer when she said "well?"

"Yes," he said and smiled, "I would love too."

"Oh wonderful," she grinned; "now I don't have to worry about you all alone on the streets."

Harry's thoughts drifted off as she chattered and he found himself thinking that this really wouldn't be that bad. _Perhaps_, he thought, _this will be kind-of like having a mother. _

It was dark. Cold. The air was deathly still with an edge of malice that pervaded his senses. He felt the hair on his arms stand on end and realized something that chilled him to the bone – he knew this place. He had been here before. But when…? There was a slight fog hanging in the air, shrouding his surroundings in decidedly sinister mystery. The fog parted slightly and Harry could just see the outline of a gate in the distance. Against his commonsense (which was currently screaming "don't follow the suspiciously clear path through the creepy fog") Harry walked towards the gate feeling a sense of dread overtake him as he neared it. As he reached it, it swung open to reveal a small graveyard. Somewhat morbidly Harry moved closer to see the inscription upon the first.

'James Potter – a brave man who gave his life for his wife and child'

He gulped and moved to the second.

'Lily Potter – a courageous woman who sacrificed herself for her child'

'Remus Lupin – died in Harry Potter's place'

"No," he whispered, "Remus didn't die, he didn't…"

'Ronald Weasly – died defending Harry Potter'

'Hermione Granger – died defending Harry Potter'

"No!" Harry yelled, "I left to protect them…to protect them."

He fell to his knees and buried his head in his hands. Almost against his will his gaze lifted to fix upon the last inscription.

'Cedric Diggory – murdered by Voldemort because of Harry Potter'

There was a flash of green light and he fell to the ground, his head spinning as Cedric's blank face filled his vision, lips moving slightly to mumble "why me Harry? Why me…?"

Harry awoke to the all-too-familiar, albeit muffled, sounds of terror and anguish. Reaching for his glasses on the bedside table, it took him a moment to realise that the sound had been coming from him.

_Just breathe deeply _he thought, calming himself, _just breathe. _

He caught a movement by the door out of the corner of his eye and snatched the lamp of the bedside table, practically hurled himself off the bed and whirled around to face… a very curious Gerald. To Harry it seemed as if the cat was raising his eyebrow reproachfully as he sauntered in. Sighing at his paranoia, he replaced the bedside lamp and got back on the bed, resting his head against the wall. Gerald followed him, leaping gracefully onto the bed. He spent a few minutes sniffing around before settling himself on Harry's lap. Stroking the cat's velvety head, Harry's gaze fell on the clock hanging on the wall. 12:05 July 31st.

"You know I'm seventeen now," he said morosely, "and the only people who know probably don't give a damn."

The cat turned his head slightly and fixed one gold eye on Harry's face.

"I know I'm self-pitying," Harry sighed, "but I can't help but feel so…alone." He scratched Gerald's ears, "and I know it's my fault. I mean, I'm the one who left and all. But maybe they could have tried harder…" he trailed off and then shook his head, "no. It had to be done. After Cedric I, I just couldn't bear the thought of causing anyone else's death."

Gerald yawned and tucked his head in his front paws.

"Am I boring you?" Harry smiled and turned to gaze out the window as his thoughts turned to his recent nightmares. It was always the same graveyard, but the inscriptions on the tombstones changed. His parents and Cedric were always there – their deaths _had _been his fault. But the others were always different. People he feared losing and even people he'd never met. There never seemed to be a pattern to it but Cedric's was always the last. Always. It was the death he felt most guilty about.

_I could have prevented it. I should have. It should have been me that died that night, not Cedric. _


End file.
